


"Last Words."

by atl_chey



Series: Stiles is pushed away [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hurt, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Dies, Stiles is Pushed Out of the Pack, Suicide, Suicide Notes, im sorry, stiles still kills donovan in this, they’re all mentioned, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 15:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14335809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atl_chey/pseuds/atl_chey
Summary: After the unfortunate events of Donovan being murdered this is what Stiles has going on in his head before he can’t take it anymore





	"Last Words."

**Author's Note:**

> this is shit im sorry. its 2:55am, and ill maybe revise it in the morning and fix it, but for now this is it

_ Here goes the story of a kid we thought we knew. He hid a hate inside and had a state of mind that put him in his grave. _

Everyone thought they knew Stiles Stilinski, well they’re fucking wrong. His friends? Wouldn’t spare one fucking glance at him, and Stiles has never felt more lonely in his damn life. All anyone would be able to tell you, as he is the Sheriff's kid, he killed someone, and he was possessed by an evil demon for a little while. Stiles hated himself, and no one knew, because no one cared.

_ It began with his friends they never noticed the despair in his eyes _

No calls, no texts, no check-ins, nothing. Not one show of concern from his ‘pack’. And yeah, okay, he gets it. No one trusts him after the Nogitsune, no one looks at him the same anymore. No one there to tell him they care, that it’s going to be alright. But  _ then, of fucking course,  _ Donovan just  _ had _ to show up in the parking lot of the school that night. Of course, Stiles just  _ had  _ to defend himself, and that included killing the boy.  _ Why couldn’t the pack look at it like that?  _ No one noticed how jumpy he became, how he was constantly afraid. How he was so  _ quiet _ . Not even Scott, _ some brother he was. _

Stiles knew they knew the second he walked into school the one day, Malia glared at him, Scott didn’t spare a glance at the boy, Liam looked like a kicked puppy, and Lydia looked at him with such disgust. It hurt. He hurt. He knew he lost his friends, his family, his brother, and the girl he loved since the third grade. His dad didn’t even look at him the same anymore, and that hurt more than anything. He really had no one.

_ And he’s dedicated to every day that he’s made it on his own _

But that had happened  _ months ago. _ He still had nightmares. Nightmares of what happened when the evil demon possessed his body, still had nightmares from Donovan. Even nightmares from his mother dying all those years ago. Anything bad that happened in Stiles life, left an impact on him more than he’d like. He suffered from it every damn day, not like anyone cared or anything.

He’d slowly stopped eating and going to school. He was eighteen now and was considered an adult, so the school never made a phone call home about him not attending classes. He’d show up every day, to every other day, to once a week, and finally once a month, and now he doesn’t even make an appearance. He hadn’t been taking care of himself, and if you still cared enough then you’d know that. He had even considered moving out of his father’s house. Feeling too much like a burden. Slowly killing his father, killed his mother. Killed his friends, killed a supernatural creature. What was next? Himself? 

_ So he tries to comply, with everything they’ve ever asked _

He’d used to get texts from Peter, or Liam, asking for research about the latest supernatural crime they had going on this month, or week, Stiles couldn’t be bothered to remember. And of course, he fucking provided the information, trying to prove his worth to the pack, even though he knew they were just using him for his research. Knew the pack didn’t care about him, maybe except Peter. The creepy asshole knew just too much for Stiles to appreciate. He’d supply them with all the information they needed within forty-eight hours of it being asked of him. Soon, just like everything else, he’d stopped that too. He’d tried so hard to be good, be perfect for the pack. To not fuck things up and stay out of the way. Stop being the weak, pathetic excuse for a human that he was. Scott had even told him that.

_ "I'm never gonna be perfect. Maybe I don't deserve this but I'm doing the best I can.” _

Stiles knew he wasn’t perfect, he could’ve just handed you his prescriptions for that. Knew he didn’t deserve what the pack did to him, but it  _ was just so fucking easy to make him think this whole thing was his fault, and he deserved everything that came to him. _ He was doing the best he could after all. Killing a total of maybe four people that cared about him. He had to live with the guilt every day, and he’d never experienced more of a trauma. Fuck, he was even in Eichen house. Of course, he was told time and time again, that the murders weren’t his fault. But he believed them though. Because that’s what the pack made him believe. He fucking killed his best-friends girlfriend. Who can just live with that?

_ His bedrooms filled with emptiness tonight as the silence cuts through like a knife. _

He couldn’t do it anymore, it was just too much for him to handle. His dad didn’t care, he wasn’t home long enough to do so, and he knew the pack didn’t care. Derek wasn’t there anymore. Peter ran away. No one talked to him anymore. Would anyone notice if he was gone? He doubted it. He wished he could stay around to find out how long it would take before they all realized that Stiles Stilinski was no longer there. He whimpered as he tried to get the cap off his sleeping meds, and cursed himself as they fell all over his bedroom floor once he had gotten it open. This was really it, wasn’t it? He was finally going to be happy. He could be happy in hell, right? He figured that’s where he was going after all. It couldn’t be that hard, can it? He was gonna swallow the pills, and then ‘accidently’ fall off the chair with the rope around his neck.

_ Save your breath, cause you'll need it when you hang from the rope. Cause of death: Obvious from your suicide note. _

He had written his suicide note days ago. Gone over it several times. Surely they’d find it, right? Would his dad come looking for him for dinner? Dinner that he was  _ supposed to bring him. _ Dinner that wasn’t made. Dinner that wasn’t even given a second thought. He thought about this for a while, planned it all out. Hoping it wouldn’t take anyone longer than a day to figure out what happened. He’d obviously killed himself, but he wanted them to figure out why he did it.

He couldn’t stand being ignored anymore. Couldn’t stand anyone not caring anymore. Couldn’t stand the loneliness anymore. This hurt worse than the time Scott ignored him in fourth grade for finishing off the pan of mac and cheese Melissa had made them for lunch. Swallowing the pills he revised the letter once more, hoping he got his point across.

_ Dad, _

_ I love you, I’m sorry it had to end this way. I’m going to be in a better place now. I won’t hurt anymore. I’m sorry for the things I put you threw. For the things, I put the pack through. Sorry for killing mom, I didn’t mean to. I know how much you loved her. I can’t live like this anymore. I don’t have a lot of friends, and I dropped out of school. I’m sorry, I know how much you wanted to see me graduate. How proud mom would be. I never wanted it to end this way, but I just couldn’t take the pain anymore, I love you, dad, and thank you, for everything. _

_ Scott, _

_ I’m sorry I couldn’t be the friend you wanted. I’m sorry for killing Allison, and Donovan, and everyone else. I’m sorry for dragging you out in the middle of the night for half a dead body. This isn’t your fault, buddy. Sorry for being a pathetic, weak, defenseless human. Sorry for killing someone out of defense, guess that really doesn’t make me defenseless, but you a hypocrite. _

_ Sincerely Mieczysław Stilinski. _

He thought about writing one for everyone else, but he really didn’t have much to say. He just wanted to apologize for the two people that were most important in his life, or used to be. Climbing up the chair, and slipping the rope around his neck. He smiled, he was finally not going to be in pain anymore. He could finally be happy. Kicking off the chair, he smiled and closed his eyes finally feeling at home.

_ Across town, his dad wakes up all alone. Never knowing he was never going to come home. _

It took Noah two days to find his son’s dead body just hanging from the ceiling. Two days too long. Noah hated himself for it. He couldn’t even face the pack. He had no idea what had happened, or where it all went wrong. Melissa did the autopsy on his son’s body. Cried like a baby. Hated herself for not seeing the signs. Not seeing him on pack nights, or hearing the rowdy teen in her home. She confirmed his time of death  _ August seventeenth, at nineteen thirty-seven hours, at the age of nineteen years old. Exactly ten years after his mother’s death. _

She went home to tell Scott that night, but something told her he already knew. After months he finally felt the bond between them break, and he’d never hurt worse in his life like he did when he had lost Allison, but of course, this time it was his own fault. He never did live with himself after Stiles death. No one did, and it wasn’t anyone’s fault but their own. Scott hated himself for pushing his brother away, pushing pack away. Stiles had no one and it was Scott’s fault. He turned against him after Donovan, and he should’ve just fucking listened to him, but not because he liked to give people the benefit of the doubt, even though it led to things like this. Because he didn’t listen to Stiles warnings about Theo, and now look where that got him. Scott never could see the ugly in people, and now he gets to pay the price.

_ The last words, that filled the page: "If no one will listen, then no one will miss when I'm gone." _

Stiles tried for months to get someone to listen to him, to pay attention and to care for him. But no one seemed to listen or care, and he gave up. Even Peter eventually stopped contacting the boy, and finally, that left no one, but Stiles and his demons. The demons that got to be too much, and drowned Stiles in their depressing lies, until he finally got tired of it, and did something about it. It took him awhile, but he could finally say he was happy.


End file.
